Black Sails in the Sunset
by Ms. Anne Thrope
Summary: This is a story I began writing with a friend a long time ago, an alternate reality where the X-Men were never mutants and exist in a Medieval-esque era. A lot of events differ from those in the comics, needless to say. Remy/Rogue


Disclaimer: 

I do not own the X-Men, however, I do own this reality, and I will do everything I please to it! Mwahaha! Anyone wanna' give me the X-Men for Christmas? :/ Marvel? Please? J Hehe. 

**Black Sails in the Sunset**

Dedications:  
  
To Ash:  
You issued the challenge, so here's the story. Without that, it'd never be written. Thank you.  
  
To Chrissi:  
Because you're one of the coolest people I know and you've helped me so much with the plot. Thank you so much for that, hon! ^_^  
  
To Nicole:  
Because you kick arse, and provided tons of information on psychological disorders that I can use for this story. ^_^  
  
Note:  
I'm still not quite sure about where I'm going with this particular bit of fiction, except with the subplot about the vampiric entity possessing the protagonist and doing a hell of a lot of damage. (Fun! Destructive! Yeah! ^_^) Anyway, I'd place this story in Medieval England, probably; maybe a tad later, but I'm not sure where, yet. Anyway, as long as you have some semblance of the setting, it's all good, right? The most important thing to remember about this story is that nothing as what it seems and prepare for a complete U-Turn at any time, although, I did include some foreshadowing in the prologue. So, have fun. Don't take anything seriously. Give me feedback.  
  
  
_"I remember when I was told a story of crushed velvet, candle wax and dried-up flowers. The figure on the bed, all dressed up in roses, calling--beckoning to sleep, offering a dream. The words were as mystical as purring animals; the circle of rage--the voices on the stage appeared. The time was so tangible; I'll never let it go. Ghost stories handed down--reached secret tunnels below. No one could see me. I fell into yesterday. Our dreams seemed not far away. I want to stay. I fell into fantasy."  
_  
-- Excerpt from 'The Days of the Phoenix' by AFI  
  
In an incandescent, bewitching pattern, the fleeing clouds gathered over the cliff, which overlooked the ocean, at the base of Angelicstone. With the innocence of springtime's symbolic bunny or the cynical alertness and hunter's pride of the wilderness, they struggled to obtain their place on the vortex above her. She looked at them detachedly, noting the stunning circle of meaningless beauty that they'd create, which could be destroyed with the slightest touch. It had the blissfully unattainable appeal of a daydream, the melancholy, false promise of escapism that she clung to so desperately in times of uncertainty and need. With this routine epiphany, the spinning whirlpool of clouds stopped and reality rushed through her with the subtlety of a tidal wave on a particularly poorly built dock. As expected, Mercury was never one for reality, and any substance of it was never welcomed with open arms or even nonchalantly accepted; instead, it was feared and desperately avoided.  
  
The distant haze of blissful nothingness cleared and she was once again on the cliff, overlooking the ocean. With an exasperated sigh, she began to gather her belongings into an emerald-shaded, velvet pouch, but refused to leave so urgently. It had been the once place where she'd escape--where she wouldn't live within the tight restrains of her life and let the spirit that she so carefully, frantically concealed run wildly through the aforementioned clouds of freedom. But, the price was far too high, she admitted ruefully, before taking another glance at the vast horizon. It mocked her in its forbidden cruelty--in her own unworthiness and its superiority. Mercury hung her head, blurry, cynical jade eyes resting on the jagged rocks as she took note of the waves crashing along the beach's sandy surface.  
  
For all the times she tried to escape, to close herself off from reality, something dragged her back. Whether it was Raven's bitterly false promise and manipulation that she refused to accept as such out of simple, daughterly adoration, or the bitter fate that led her here, she'd never be allowed to exit this vicious cycle--this tangled web of lies and pain. Reality would always strike with its characteristic harshness when she least expected it, and she would be forced to, once again, withdraw into a makeshift, symbolic dome of sweet denial until, once day, she'd lose all sensation and comprehension. When she'd find more security in denial, when repression would become second nature, when...  
  
She pushed the thoughts away, because she knew that she was nearing the point with every consecutive second. She smirked bitterly at what her life had become. The girl with eyes once so vivacious, were now hollow and dry, with no evidence of life or hope. With a sardonic gleam in the aforementioned orbs, she traced the smooth chiffon and silk of her gown, watching as it shone with reflected light. It had all been a lie--everything had been a mask that she'd either chosen to wear out of avoidance of repeated, dire experience or pathetic manipulation at the hand of whichever chose to do so in the given week, month, year, etc.  
  
Mercury stood then, green eyes narrowed to mere slits as she stared at the previously mentioned clouds in agony. Her hands were unconsciously, symbolically balled into fists that she swung freely in demonstration in hatred for the sky--for herself. But they only continued to mock her in their cruelty, with sly gestures of tease and their obtained secrets for bliss. She took a final glance at the horizon with longing, basking in its safety net of inaccessibility and knowledge in its lack of direct power to betray her--to hurt her.  
  
She visibly relaxed then; a familiar, relieved smile returning to her face in desperation in the knowledge that she'd never grow attached. The plague that claimed most of humanity in its seductive demeanor would never obtain her, because she was unsusceptible to it--because she was invulnerable to its cruel appeals and cons. The smile became more ambiguous as a reoccurring, bittersweet epiphany made itself more obvious. She realized once more that the skies and oceans held more promise than humanity's petty lies and falsehoods and reveled in her absence from it--that no one could see her.  
  
With a final glance at her internal symbol for freedom, she took a step off the cliff and prepared her dreaded return to reality, which wasn't hers and never will be. With an anguished sigh, she routinely withdrew her symbolic mask and concealed the girl within--a rogue, escaping on a ship with dramatically defiant, black sails in the infinite sunset. 


End file.
